


New Boss

by Tujima



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Vega POV, dance club, drinking makes dancing easier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 12:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14618334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tujima/pseuds/Tujima
Summary: This was something that was inspired by the songMiddle of a Memoryby Cole Swindell and takes place between Mass Effect 2 and Mass Effect 3, before she goes to Vancouver to be court marshaled. There's a slight alternate universe throw in because of the ending.





	New Boss

The last few months had been absolute hell.

If he closed his eyes he could still see the towering memorial wall that had been erected on Fehl Prime, feel the battered, dirt encrusted teddy bear clenched in his hand as he saluted the memory of his fallen friends and loved ones. It still made his chest tight if he let himself wallow too long.

What had followed had been weeks of standing, or sitting in some cases, in front of various members of the Council and the Alliance, being debriefed about every single moment of his time spent on the now destroyed settlement. He was convinced that they’d gone over his memory so thoroughly that there wasn’t a single thing he’d missed, including what he’d eaten for breakfast the day the attack happened.

Now he sat amidst the thumping pulse that accompanied the music of Purgatory, his hand bringing his glass to his mouth to drain it – how many had this been? _Not enough,_ he thought as he put the glass down, tapping it in an unspoken request for a refill from the asari behind the bar. She obliged, giving him a small smile as she filled the glass before shifting her eyes to the next patron that was requesting alcoholic refuge. James sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he turned on his stool, sipping his drink as he let his eyes wander over the crowd of people on the dance floor. It seemed like everybody was letting themselves be taken over by the music, bodies moving in tune to the beat, rubbing against their partners – all except for one.

She was dressed in various shades of darkness, from her black boots to her pants that seemed to have been painted on, leaving nothing to the imagination as they clung to every curve of her legs and hips as she swayed. Her stomach was lean and flat where her shirt wasn’t covering, thin lines of red slashing across her flesh in an erratic fashion. Her arms were above her head, her hands and fingers buried in her short curly mess of brown hair, causing the dark slate of her shirt to pull tightly against her breasts as she moved to the music, but not to the quick beat of the music playing, but apparently to a tune that only she could hear.

 _I want to hear that music,_ he thought, draining his drink and leaving the empty glass upside down on the bar before he slipped off the barstool and headed towards the mystery woman.

Almost as if she knew she was being approached, she opened her eyes and locked them with his, the rich caramel meeting milk chocolate. He watched as a smile curled across her lips as he took up the space behind her, swaying his body in tune with hers, slowing letting his hands rest on her hips. His partner chuckled, lowering her fingers to trace against his as she began to move to the beat that he could hear, her hips grinding back against his before turning in his grip and wrapping her arms around his neck. In this position he noticed that the red scarring started around her eyes and slashed across her cheeks and down her neck to disappear down the collar of her shirt – for a fleeting moment he was curious as to what _else_ those scars curled around.

“You’re new,” she murmured with a grin, arching an eyebrow at him as he repositioned his hands. “Not as new as I look,” he replied with a grin, “though you’re free to check under the hood if you’d like,” he added, spinning her as the music began to surge, then bringing her back to him, hand on her lower back pressing her tight against his hips. A rich chuckle slipped from her mouth at this, her tongue flicking out to run over her bottom lip before her teeth nipped at the slick flesh as if she were keeping herself from saying something. He watched as the purple and blue lights flowed over her hair and face as they danced, feeling the alcohol making him feel warm and tingly from his head to his toes – though that could’ve also been because of his dance partner.

As the music changed from one thumping pulse to a new version of the same tune, Vega leaned down and brushed his lips against his partners ear, “We could always continue this dance somewhere a bit more…private,” he whispered, “Somewhere you could…kick the tires?”  He felt her shudder beneath his hands at his offer, pulling back to see her looking at him with heated eyes and smile that held promises of things that he could only pray would be happening.

Just as she opened her mouth to respond, a large three-fingered hand appeared between the throng of people, taking her hand from his and spinning her in a practiced manner into the open arms of a towering turian. The woman looked surprised, then upon seeing her new partner, smiled warmly up at him as the alien arm wrapped around her shoulders securely, “I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” he purred into her hair with a chuckle. James looked at his bare hands, then to the woman, then the turian in confusion – and was about to open his mouth to complain when more people approached. “Yeah, it’s time to head out, Harley,” a human male said, his SR-1 hat slightly askew as he had an arm wrapped around the waist of a very drunk looking asari.

“Yes, I know…I need to report to Vancouver before the Alliance comes looking for me,” his brunette mystery woman sighed, shaking her head, “I just wanted to work out some kinks before I’m locked away for who knows how long,” she murmured, winking at Vega before she let her crew of comrades lead her away through the crowd.

Vega watched the group, feeling disgruntled at his possible chance to work out those ‘kinks’ flew out the proverbial window. With a frustrated sigh, he returned to his stool at the bar and was greeted with another full glass without having to ask. He looked up and met the asari’s gaze, “Don’t worry handsome, the Commander will be back,” she said, patting him on the shoulder before moving off to a new patron.

Raising the glass to his lips, James took a healthy swig before it sunk in what the asari had said – _Commander_ …and the human had called her… _Harley_ …

James sprayed the back wall of the bar with alcohol as it clicked as to who he’d been dancing with.

Harley Shepard.

 _Commander_ Harley Shepard.

Swallowing past the burning in his throat, coughing as he looked down at his omni-tool through watery eyes, flicking through his emails until he found the one that he was looking for – sent this morning from Captain Anderson, discussing James’s future with the Alliance.

Fuck…

He’d just been dancing and flirting with his new boss.


End file.
